Luna's POV
The days since Alexander's confession had been quiet, unsettling even. His words, though softened, echoed in my mind long after he'd left the room. "I can't keep pretending I don't care." Those words had been a twist in the story I thought I understood, yet here I was, still uncertain of what he truly meant by them. Was it just a fleeting moment of weakness, or something more?
I tried to shake off the confusion, focusing on my recovery. Physically, I was nearly back to full strength, but emotionally, I remained tangled in a web of doubts and fear. It was as if the closer I got to the end of our contract, the more real everything became—his actions, our relationship, and the future that I wasn't sure I wanted.
It was late afternoon when I found myself wandering through the mansion once again, my feet carrying me through halls I had grown too familiar with. I had been avoiding the study, avoiding him, but today I couldn't seem to stop myself. I felt like I was standing on the edge of something I couldn't quite define, something that both terrified and intrigued me.
When I reached the study, I hesitated outside the door. Through the crack, I could see Alexander sitting at his desk, papers scattered around him as he worked. His face was tense, focused—yet, when he noticed me standing there, his expression softened for just a moment.
"Come in," he said, his voice almost inviting, though still distant.
I pushed the door open slowly and stepped inside, trying to steady my nerves. The silence between us had grown so thick lately, but today, there was something in the air—a tension that I couldn't escape.
He didn't look up immediately, but his eyes flickered briefly to the clock on the wall. "You're early," he remarked, his tone neither reprimanding nor warm, just factual.
"I had nothing else to do," I replied, trying to keep my voice light.
Alexander finally looked up, and for a moment, I saw a flash of something—guilt, maybe, or regret. But it was gone before I could make sense of it.
"You're recovering well," he said, his tone casual but somehow laced with an underlying tension.
"Thank you," I said, clasping my hands together in front of me. I wasn't sure what to say. There was so much I wanted to ask him, so much I wanted to understand. But every time I tried, the words slipped away, leaving only the hollow feeling that I had no right to question him. I was just a part of this—his toy, as he had once so coldly put it. Nothing more.
"You've been avoiding me," he observed, his voice lowering. It was more of a statement than a question.
"I haven't been avoiding you," I replied quickly, though I could hear the defensive edge in my voice. "I've just been… busy."
He raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Luna…"
I bit my lip, the words I had been holding back threatening to spill out. "I don't know where we stand, Alexander," I said before I could stop myself. "You've said things, and then you act like… like I'm just here to fill some role in your life. I can't keep pretending I don't feel that."
His expression hardened in an instant, the shift so subtle that it almost went unnoticed. He set his pen down with deliberate slowness and leaned back in his chair, studying me. The air between us thickened, and I found it hard to breathe.
"You don't understand, Luna," he said quietly, his voice colder than it had been in weeks. "This has never been about you and me—at least, not in the way you think. You're here because you agreed to this arrangement. Nothing more."
I felt the sting of his words, but I refused to let it show. "I know what I agreed to," I replied, my voice firm, though my insides were twisting. "But you don't get to flip the script whenever it suits you. I'm not some pawn in your game, Alexander."
He stood up suddenly, the movement abrupt and commanding. "You're right," he said, his voice sharp. "You're not a pawn. But I never promised you anything more than what's in the contract. You're not mine to love, Luna. You're just here for the time being."
The finality in his words hit me like a slap. He was right. We were nearing the end of our arrangement, and whatever I had hoped for, whatever I had wished we could become, was just that—a wish. There was no room for feelings here, no space for anything beyond what we had agreed upon.
"I don't need anything from you, Alexander," I said, my voice softer now, but still strong. "But I need you to stop pretending like there's something between us when you don't want there to be. I'm not asking for your love, but I do deserve more than this…"
He didn't answer. Instead, he walked past me, his shoulder brushing mine as he exited the room without another word.
I stood there for a long time, feeling the weight of his absence pressing down on me. The silence in the study was deafening, and I realized with a sinking feeling that I had just pushed him away completely.
But maybe that was for the best. After all, what else could I expect from someone like him?
The end of our contract was drawing closer, and with it, the inevitable reality of who we truly were to each other—nothing more than strangers bound by a deal.